The Greatest Adventure
by SufferingStarlight
Summary: Peter decided to stay. Wendy was happy at first but now she sees how sad Peter is. Wendy feels so guilty for making Peter stay when he didn't want to, and now the fairies wont come to him when he calls. He has lost his happy thoughts. However, they both still love each other very much, can this be resolved? Based off the 2003 live-action film. Much better than the description.


**A/N: So I was was watching the live-action Peter Pan (2003) with Jeremy Sumpter, and Rachel Hurd, Wood, and that film always gives me such strong Peter Wendy feels! So I began writing that night, and had two really vivid ideas for scenes, the one where they fight and the one where they make up. In my opinion the rest of fic is much weaker, especially the middle. I tried to make everything flow, but since I wrote the fight and make up scene the night I watched the movie, they are much better done I think. Hopefully it all still works together well enough idk. Please excuse Peter for seeming a bit OOC, and sad, but that's how he would be if he were taken from Neverland I think. Also though most of the inspiration for this comes from the 2003 film, all the rules do not apply, like I have not added that the island like dies without Peter there, or that grownups can't live there. I also used the dress color from the Disney film, not the Live-action film. So it's blue. I added a bit of Once upon a time lore as well, like how Peter is like part of the island and such. Also I know people's eyes don't actually change color irl, but Peter isn't exactly normal, so the color changes are kind of representative of his different moods. Anyway I really enjoyed writing this, I've been so encouraged by all your kind comments on my other works, I hope you enjoy this as much. Just don't forget this is set in an older London, not modern London. ENJOY!**

"Please Peter," I yanked on his foot as he flew out the window.

"Wendy," he sighed, he'd never looked older than he did now. Tears were filling his eyes. I felt my small heart shatter, how did I feel so much, mother said I was still so very young. Auntie Janie said I'd hardly lived, that I'd never felt the suffering of grownup people, but now my whole world seemed to be flying out my bedroom window.

"I can't, you know that I can't," he said clutching my hands, as if he were trying to convey the message through his touch.

"But Peter," I said earnestly. "You can, you can stay, because it would be ever so wonderful."

"I shall not grow up," he snapped back. "You cannot make me!"

"I don't want to make you Peter," My eyes felt so sore from all the tears I'd shed, happy and sad. "I wish there was someway we could be together, and you could stay young."

"I do too, but-"

"A week!" I screamed suddenly.

"What?" He asked confusedly.

"I do not know how long we stayed with you, but it must've been about a week." I would later find out it'd been around two and a half months.

"You let me visit you Peter, I must return the favor," I told him conspiratorially.

"I, what?"

"It would be rude of me not to have you stay at my house. You must come and stay with me a week."

"Wendy," he seemed a bit exasperated. He knew my trick.

"It would be shameful if I didn't return your favor," I said. "You don't want me to be shamed do you?" I asked slowly.

"Never!" Peter exclaimed valiantly.

"Then, oh Peter, you must stay for a week," I demanded.

"Alright, but just to make sure the Lost Boys are okay," Peter agreed and he flited back towards the window. I was able to get my parents to agree to Peter staying. Peter seemed to have more fun than he'd originally thought, and at the end of the week he agreed to stay with me! At first I didn't believe him, I thought it was one of his pretends, but he stayed.

You wouldn't have known that he had come to stay willingly. He always gave mother such trouble about baths, and he never did a single chore. He refused to wear his nice clothes. I begged him all the time, constantly, to stop being so, so childish, but whenever I did this, he acted like I was complimenting him. I realized now that I would have to change his whole way of thinking, if I wanted him to stay. I would have to show him that being mature, was a nice thing. Slowly he began to behave, but every night he would come to my room, and we would talk about Neverland, and every night the guilt would squeeze my heart harder. I was taking this boy's innocence, but even more than my guilt was my selfishness, for I could not let him leave me.

After about three months with my family Peter made an executive decision about his future. He asked if I could help him find his real family. I agreed immediately, asking my father for help. The longer the search took the more antsy Peter got. For a boy who so dearly wanted to leave his family behind before, Peter was anxious to meet them. I had a theory, one I hoped was true. As Peter learned more and more about this world, he became acquainted with the way things were done, even if it wasn't spelled out for him. He may have realised that if he remained with us, if the adoption papers went through, he and I could have no sort of romantic relationship. Perhaps he wished to find another home so that he would not become my true brother, at least I hoped.

After a month or so of searching, my father and I did find Peter's parents, in a cemetery in Liverpool. Peter didn't seem too sad, he said "What's the use of mourning something you never had?" I went with him to visit his parent's graves, and he was just completely silent. He didn't cry, or jest, or make any of his usual joyful conversation. He was shell shocked. He didn't speak the rest of the day, and I was so worried I skipped supper. When he came to my room for our nightly talk, he finally broke his silence.

"I did not feel sad today for my parents, but I realize now that, that is odd," He said slowly.

"Oh Peter! You're speaking!"

His blonde head was facing down. He hadn't made eye contact with me since we'd visited the grave sight.

"Am I awful?" He asked.

"No Peter, of course not, you did not know them," I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"But surely you would miss your parents if they were dead, even if you'd never met them," He glanced at the window, I knew he must've been thinking of Neverland.

"We are different, you and I," I said moving closer to him. When we'd returned from Neverland, Peter and John had gotten their own room, with the other Lost Boys. Peter and I were perfectly alone, and I could hear his breathing, it was mesmerizing.

"There was a time when we were quite similar Wendy bird," He looked up now, his blueish green eyes piercing my soul.

"Well we still like a lot of the same things," I said cheerfully.

"It was the name I couldn't get over," He spoke so softly now. I was sobering up now. His father had been named Peter as well. Their last name had been Pannel, Peter's baby mind must've changed it. Though in the graveyard it had been snowing, and the "nel" on the end of the name had been covered with a dusting of white, so that the grave read Peter Pan. I had to admit it had thrown me for a loop as well.

"It said my name Wendy, right there on that slab of rock, and that was it. That is all you get when you die, a slab of rock."

"Oh Peter," I began.

"Wendy I don't want to die, I once thought it would be an adventure, but if all I get is a hunk of rock, I don't want it."

"But Peter there shall be ever so many stories about you, and songs, you will do so many good things Peter," I tried to say.

"Wendy, life here is so different than life in Neverland," He said sadly. I said nothing but pulled him into a hug, he collapsed against me and I felt him shake. I was alarmed to see that he was crying. I had never seen him cry since that night he almost left me. He'd been so strong. Now he was sobbing, clutching to my nightdress as if it were his lifeline.

"Peter-" I was cut off as his head shot up off my chest.

"And it is you!" He pointed an accusing finger at me. "Who has made me feel this way, I now fear death the way men do. I never knew staying with you would come at such an awful price!"

"Peter!" I gasped, it was now my turn to cry.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, I would've visited you Wendy, all the time!" He screamed.

"Then why did you stay?" I asked, anger rearing its ugly head.

"Because you asked me to!" he snapped. "Isn't this what you wanted Wendy, for me to grow up, like all your friends and family."

"No I wanted us to stay the same, but I couldn't, I just couldn't leave my parents," I said in earnest, tears falling thick and fast.

"Wendy, I hate it here," I knew he was being honest, I felt the words stab me like a harpoon to the chest.

"Then call Tink! Call the whole of pixie hollow!" I snarled. "Make them take you back, live forever as a child, and forget about me."

"I have tried, Tink won't answer my call anymore, The fairies won't come, and I can't think of a happy thought to lift me. Life has ruined me Wendy."

"You," I took a deep breath, and Peter realized what he'd said, "You tried to leave?"

"Wendy," he began.

"No!" I screamed. "Get out! Leave my room this instant, it isn't proper for a lady to have a man in her sleeping quarters this late!"

"Wendy bird," He tried, pleading eyes a dark blue in the night light. "Don't say that, don't be so grown up, please, Wendy you are all I can rely on."

"Well like it or not Peter I am growing up," I said angrily pushing him towards the door. He was now standing in the hall like a lost puppy.

"And so are you!" I snapped, and slammed the door in his face.

After that night things between Peter and I became much more strained. He only stayed with us for a bit after that. Father found that he had a close relative living about an hour away. None of us could bear the thought of Peter leaving us so Father used the money from the Pirate treasure to buy a small house across from us for Peter and his Aunt to live.

Though Peter and I were not nearly as close, we still remained cordial and friendly, and I still remained so in love with him it hurt. I adored watching him learn new things, especially to read. Peter devoured books, easily finishing large novels in a week. He had soon finished all the books in my father's extensive library, so I took him to get a library card of his own. I remember him staring at the books with wonder, his green eyes lighting up at the possibilities of all the worlds he could enter.

"Oh Wendy, there are so many!" He said spinning around the library. A librarian shushed him and I grabbed his arm, giggled, and pulled him into a more secluded area.

"I am going to read them all!" He vowed.

"You're always so dramatic," I laughed.

"How dare you!" He accused, and I laughed again.

"I _will_ read them all though," He said softer now, caressing the spines. "I could enter so many worlds, so many different adventures, I could go on them all," He spoke, gently, as if to a frightened bird. Then I heard him say a terrible word.

"Again," He murmured, and it was then I'd realized why he enjoyed all those books so much. He was trying to remember the feel of Neverland, he'd not only been on adventures like these, but ones even greater. He was trying to live vicariously through these people, in these books, because he was so lonely. That was the first time I saw the beginnings of his depression. How his eyes were the blue, grey of the English sky, instead of the green, blue of the Neverland horizon.

Peter was diagnosed with depression a month or so after that. His face became more sullen, His eyes greyer, he spent most of his time buried in a book. He seemed to never want to play anymore, he was being pulled deeper and deeper into the fantasy worlds he was reading about.

He despised his therapy appointments, he wouldn't take his medicine, claiming it was actually poison created to help him grow up faster. I saw him fall into a despair. I couldn't bear to watch him get anymore sad, so I distanced myself from him even more. I wouldn't look him in the eye, I'd excuse myself from any meetings as fast as I could.

We drifted apart slowly, and it was a pain that drilled even deeper than the one I'd felt that night, long ago, at my bedroom window. I'd been wrong, so horribly wrong. I thought I'd known pain. I'd thought the worst thing in my life would be to watch Peter disappear from my windowsill, but I knew now, that if he'd done that, at least he would've been happy. He would've been content in Neverland, with the fairies and the Indians and even with the Pirates. Now he was a shell of Peter, now I'd seen him at his lowest, I'd seen him begin to shatter, and that was worst pain I could've felt. To see him like this was worse than to see him leave me forever.

It was a moment I thought I'd love more than any other. It was my eighteenth birthday ball. Though it was masquerading as a party for me, really it was a party for my future. All families with eligible sons were invited, seeing as my family expected me to be engaged or seriously courting by my next birthday, this day was to scout out the possibilities. Though everyone pretended they were here for me, everyone knew it was really for suitors to see me in all my eighteen year old glory.

I thought I'd be happy, that I'd be excited. Getting married and having children had always been a dream of mine. However, now as I look at myself in the mirror, wearing my new silky blue and white dress, all I can think of is Peter. This will be the first time in almost a year we'll be together for longer than a few moments. My gown tonight is the same colors as my nightdress when he took me away that night so long ago, and the memories are coming back in rushes.

He was still so handsome, so boyishly charming. My love still hadn't dwindled for him. Sometimes I'd see him talk to other girls and it filled me with such a rage. Jealousy contorted my being, and I knew that the only one I wanted courting me was Peter Pan. No matter how long we've been apart, the space in my heart for him was still so large.

"Dear, please," My mother said exasperatedly. "Try to look a bit excited."

"Sorry mother," I said docilely.

"Now I hear the Anderson Twins will be here tonight, I think the one named Lesley is serious thinking of courting you," Mother was almost squealing with delight, such odd things excited her.

"I hardly know Lesley Anderson," I complained.

"As if that matters, you'll get to know him," Mother explained. John and Michael then came prancing in with Nana, asking mother to help them with their ties.

"Not to mention," I began again, fluffing my curls. "He has absolutely no imagination, I remember trying to play cowboys and robbers with him and he told me that cowboys weren't really the heroes we think of them as, and mainly worked with livestock."

"Yes, but Wendy, who needs an imagination," John scoffed, straightening his hat. "That's all silly now, you need to think about the real world."

"How you've changed!" I snapped, pursing my lips.

"You used to be different John," Michael laughed as he petted Nana.

"We really don't have time for this conversation!" Mother fussed, hustling us out the door.

The night seemed dull. The food was bland, the people were a bore, and Lesley Anderson wouldn't take his grey eyes off me. I hated the color grey, that was the color of Peter's eyes when he was sad, and I despised it. Peter and John seemed to be having fun with Tootles and Slightly.

"Hello Wendy bird," a boyish voice said quietly.

"Peter!" I cried, I couldn't hold myself back. I threw my arms around him. He laughed as he stumbled back a step or two. As I pulled away I looked into his eyes, they were green tonight. He was smiling again, and he looked like a dream.

"You look beautiful tonight," He mumbled, pushing a piece of my amber hair behind my ear.

"Hello there Peter," Lesley had somehow slid into our space, and the moment was broken.

"Hello Lesley," Peter rolled his eyes, and I stifled a laugh.

"How have you been?" Lesley asked Peter.

"Excellent," Peter said with a mock bow, I was really making an effort not to laugh. Lesley sneered at Peter and then turned to me.

"So, dear Wendy," Lesley began and I saw Peter's jaw clench. "What have you been doing lately?"

"I don't know, I'm thinking of going to college, maybe studying to become an English teacher-" Lesley scoffed.

"College?" He asked, and I felt Peter move protectively closer.

"Yes Lesley," I tried to grin.

"Why would you have a need for that?" Lesley asked. "If you get a rich husband," he moved nearer now so that he was uncomfortably close to me. "Then it won't matter."

"I dearly hope that my husband would support me in choosing to further my education," I was smiling still, but gritting my teeth as well.

"Oh Wendy," Peter moved closer now too and I felt a thrill rush through me. "Dear, women aren't really meant to teach children in a professional setting, they perform better at home. Maybe leave the School teaching to the men."

"One girl is worth more than twenty men," I heard Peter's gentle voice say, and I turned to him, a soft smile of thanks on my face. Peter and I were able to finally drift away from Lesley. We quickly tried to enter into any other conversation that presented itself.

"He was such a charmer as a child," my mother laughed.

"Yes, yes," Ms. DelQuincey laughed. "I remember his imagination was especially vibrant!"

I grinned as I realized they were talking about Peter. Peter must've realized too, because a light pink blush covered his cheeks. He looked like a child again, being praised for his mighty deeds. My mother and her friends began to reminisce about Peter, my brothers, the Lost Boys, and I as a children.

"So adventurous!" Ms. Rosa nudged my mother. Lesley had somehow integrated himself into our conversation. I rolled my eyes as he spoke about the different character building acts he'd done as a child. His boring speech was quickly cut off by one of the other women.

"But I have to say," My mother laughed. "Their favorite game to play was Neverland."

I turned slowly to Peter, he was standing stock still. He didn't really talk to anyone but me about Neverland, and since we'd been a bit off lately, it hadn't been mentioned. He still wasn't moving as my mother began to speak again.

"It had fairies, and mermaids, oh and what else Wendy?" She turned to me obviously wanting me to tell her about the pirates. Her grin was wide, but I was shaking. She'd forgotten. Her adult mind had changed history, she seemed to think we'd always had Peter and The Lost Boys living with us. Adults will do this sometimes you know, they have forgotten how to dream, how to imagine, and so their brain creates more plausible scenarios to cover up anything magnificent and wonderful.

"Pirates," I whispered, barely able to speak, and I saw Lesley chuckling.

"What foolery," He laughed. Peter moved forward a bit, fist clenched. I grabbed his hand, covering his fist with my palm. He relaxed a bit. I could imagine how he felt, growing up took some of your adventurous spirit no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There had been times I doubted, that I had stopped believing. Maybe there had been times when Peter had laid in bed and wondered if it had all been a dream, that we had always known one another. I realized it must've been so hard for Peter not to have me to talk to, not to have someone to tell him he wasn't crazy, that those wonderful things had happened.

"Neverland, uh, such a magnificent pretend," My mother sighed.

"It is not a pretend," Peter managed to choke out. "Neverland is real!"

"Oh Peter," Lesley laughed. "Grow up." I heard Peter gasp. I felt his whole body stiffen, and when I looked at him I saw the hatred in his eyes usually reserved for Captain Hook. I expected him to scream, maybe to punch Lesley, to curse at my mother, but I never expected him to turn and run. I saw him disappear down our long hall as Lesley laughed, and my mother looked after him concerned.

"How could you?" I asked Lesley, he looked stunned. I must've looked murderous, I felt it at any rate.

"And mother," I turned to my mother, who looked saddened, but confused. "You know better, you know you do."

It was my turn to run from the hall. I ran through the house, tripping over my gown, and whipping open every door. I felt constricted by my huge dress, so I tore at the lacing and buttons as I ran, and discarded it in the hall. I was now in only my soft and billowy underdress, a light blue, like my old nightgown.

I finally came to my room, at the end of the hall, and I wondered how I'd ever thought he could be somewhere else. This is where it had all begun. This, of course, was the room he would run to. I tentatively reached for the doorknob, the sorrow of the years weighing me down. I turned the knob slowly.

Peter sat on my bed, looking so lonely I hardly recognized him. He was clutching the duvet and I could hear a small sob come from his lips.

"Peter," I called.

"Wendy!" He whipped around. I stared at him, he looked back me. His boyish features had aged well. His sharp cheekbones, tanned skin, and cerulean eyes had stayed true. His jaw was more prominent and stronger, his nose a bit wider. His tousled blonde hair had stayed curly and I was thankful for it. Suddenly I was filled with emotions and the tears burst out of me. I ran to Peter the guilt so strong I wanted to throw up, I hung on him, gasping between sobs.

"Peter, I'm sorry," I groveled. "Oh Peter can you ever, ever forgive me. I've been so incredibly selfish!"

"Wendy," he said placing a hand on my shaking shoulders, but I cut him off. I was weeping so much that I could hardly make out his face as I looked at him.

"Peter I took you away from everything you loved. I stole it, because I was a selfish, selfish girl."

"Wendy, I chose to stay," he said slowly.

"But you changed your mind, and I had changed you so much that you couldn't leave, oh Peter," I laid my head in his lap, hoping he would forgive me.

"I made you like this, I'm so sorry. I know you must hate me!" He lifted my head up slowly. His fingers held my face, he wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"Oh Wendy bird," and he was smiling now. "You're so dreadfully silly. I could never hate you."

"You couldn't?" I whimpered.

"Never!" He exclaimed. "We both did selfish things, because we were young and stupid, but Wendy you have not changed me so. I still love to get dirty in the leaves, and to shoot a bow and arrow, and to pick a fight," he was being so gentle, so kind, when I had been so awful.

"I have taken you from your rightful home, and taken who you are, or were."

"Wendy, a fish taken from water is still a fish," he was grinning.

"But it cannot breathe," I whispered.

"I'll give you that," he nodded. "For so long I blamed you because I could not breathe, but Wendy, it isn't your fault, it can't be. I know that in some part of me I wanted to stay here with you."

"B-but," I clambered up his shirt till I was holding his face. "But you said yourself you hate it here."

"Wendy bird," he took my hands from his face and held them so that I would stop shaking. "I do hate it here, I hate the lessons, the clothes, the expectations, I have never stopped despising them." I stared at him, completely horrified. I know I didn't deserve to be comforted, but this was like walking backwards.

"And I miss Neverland something awful. I miss the beach, I miss the mermaids who would always try to drown me. I miss the fairies, especially Tink. I miss the tree fort and my old bed. I miss the sky that was always blue, not like the grey one here. I miss the way the flowers petals felt on my skin, I miss the sound of the Indians calling. I miss the taste of the island fruit, I miss the smell of the sea, and the wind in my hair when I flew. Hell, Wendy, I even miss the Pirates."

"Peter," I tried.

"Shhhh," he grinned putting a finger to my mouth. "But for all that I hate here and all that I miss there, nothing, and I mean nothing Wendy, nothing compares to the love I feel for you."

I gasped, and it was if a hole in my heart had been finally mended. I felt the guilt ebb away leaving me warm and happy. He loved me, and I realized now that, nothing could compare to this feeling. Not flying, not new dresses, not telling stories, not even growing up.

"Wendy you were right in the forest so long ago, I have heard of the word 'love', because I have met you. Love is Wendy Darling, and it always will be. You are better than Neverland, and that is why I stayed, not because I couldn't call Tink. I have always wanted you."

"Peter, oh Peter, I love you too. More than anything in this world, I love you more than growing up, and if we could, I would go back to Neverland with you, and I would stay with you for always."

"Dear Wendy, we have been so foolish," he smiled, running his thumb along my cheek. I closed my eyes, breathing in his sent.

"Peter," I said suddenly, looking at him intensely. "Not all things about growing up are bad."

"Like what?" He asked quizzically.

"Like now, I can do this," I grabbed his shirt collar, and kissed him. He responded so jubilantly that the kiss was more heated than any I'd ever seen shared in polite company.

"Yes, I see your point," he grinned after separating from me. "And because I am grown, I shall do this," he began to kiss my neck. I shivered with delight. He sucked for a moment, and nibbled, and I knew a mark would be left.

"Oh Peter," I gasped. "Wherever did you learn to kiss so well?" I asked in exuberation.

"Books, and movies mostly," he said, his hands tightly holding my waist. "The moment I found out what a thimble really was, I knew I wanted to do it with you, over and over again. So I studied up."

"Well you're quite excellent," I sighed pulling him to me again. My hands were in his curls and his left one clung to my hip, while the other travelled to my undergarment sleeve. He pushed it down slowly, leaving gentle kisses on my shoulder. I moved so that I was on his lap, facing him.

"Wendy," He sighed, and a smile blessed his lips, making him the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. "You are truly more beautiful than anything in this world, or in Neverland."

"Oh Peter," I blushed. "I think you are just perfectly wonderful, and I want you to have all of me." Peter blushed too now, he knew exactly what I meant, he had not just learned what a thimble was, but other things as well. He looked down for a moment.

"Wendy, I don't deserve that," He said sadly. "You deserve a man who wants to grow up, who wants to... I don't know, who wants to work in an office, who wants to be proper and not go on adventures."

"Peter stop, I don't care about that, why do you think I hated Lesley so much, I don't want someone like that, I'm done trying to grow up, I want you."

Peter's smile was so brilliant, I thought it might blind me. He kissed me again, with even more enthusiasm this time if possible. His lips melded with mine perfectly. His hands roamed my body, and somehow it felt as though I were being lifted up. Like I was flying again like in the old days. I had removed my dress completely now and Peter was staring at me like I was the only person in the world. I looked down, not able to take the intensity of his gaze any longer, and saw, not the bedsheets underneath us, but a star strewn sky.

"Oh my goodness, Peter look!"

We were soaring through the air at a high speed, around us was light, the sparkling shimmering light of pixie dust.

"We're flying! Oh Peter it feels just like it used to," I laughed, leaning my head back, my hair dipping in the inky sky.

"You were it!" He screamed happily. "You were my happy thought! Oh Wendy!" We began to kiss again knowing we were safe in the voluminous cloud of pixie dust. Eventually we made love, within the stars, and when we finished the dust placed us on the warm, sandy beach of Neverland. Tired from the night of tears and love the two of us cuddled together on the warm sand, that somehow seemed softer than any bed, and fell asleep.

We woke up to the brilliant colors of Neverland, everywhere the vibrance was almost so bright it stung my eyes. I'd forgotten just how beautiful it really was here. Peter was just basking in the sunlight, smiling so wide, I thought his face might break. He looked young again, his eyes were the brightest green I'd ever seen them. He was a masterpiece, finally reacquainted with his artist.

I sat up gingerly, expected to be sore and stiff from our activities and from a night on the beach, but I was neither. The sand fell off me easily, it didn't stick like sand in England or get into places you didn't want it.

"Peter," I gasped, are we really back?

"Yes," He grinned. "And watch this!"

He rose from where he was sitting, his legs remained crossed but his body lifted into the air. He then stretched magnificently and began to zoom around from tree to tree, screaming, and crowing all the time. I clapped and cheered as he flew, and soon realized I was flying too.

"Oh Peter look!" I screamed, and he laughed so loud it could've been a canon going off.

"Oh Wendy look at you, where did you find pixie dust?" He asked.

"But Peter I didn't, I didn't get any, no fairy was here!"

He looked absolutely stunned, drifting through the air to where I was. He then floated around me like a shark around its prey. He observed me, looked me up and down. Went up and looked down at me and then flew underneath me.

"Peter!" I said exasperatedly clutching my skirt around my legs. He grinned slyly, but then returned to his space in front of me.

"Think a sad thought," He demanded.

"Oh but Peter, it feels as though I'll never be sad again!"

"Try for me Wendy Bird," he coaxed, holding my hands in his.

"Alright."

I tried desperately I really did, but it was all for nought, nothing was coming to mind. I tried to imagine mother and father all alone at home, but I couldn't picture their sad faces. I tried to imagine leaving the island, but why would I ever do that?

"I cannot," I said stamping my foot in the air.

"Oh, alright then," Peter said slowly.

"What is it Peter?" I asked gently.

"When we did, well when we," he tried to start but he was flustered and turning red. "When you and I-"

"When we made love?"

"Yes that! Well I don't know, we must be connected in some different way now, you must be part of the island like me, you don't need pixie dust anymore."

"Really!" I squealed.

"Does that make you happy Wendy?" He asked.

"Ever so happy Peter!"

"Then you will stay? Forever and ever and we will never leave again?" He asked,

"Of course not Peter!" I laughed.

"Oh Wendy!" He crowed and kissed me full on the mouth. I laughed joyously.

"But what of the others Wendy, I see now why it was so hard for you to want to stay," He said a small sadness entering our haven.

"Why we shall go get them of course," I supplied. "And if they wish not to come, well then we will visit, but Peter I cannot leave you again, you're my life now. I shall not grow any older, I shall stay here with you forever."

And then Peter was crying, but for the first time, it was tears of joy. He kissed my face all over, leaving wetness on it. He was singing, he was dancing, and crowing with all his heart. He couldn't believe his luck, and I danced, and sung and crowed with him.

In the end Slightly, Curly, Michael, Nibs, and one of the twins wanted to come back to stay. Mother and Father scolded us to no end, but I explained I would've been leaving the house soon anyway. Mother seemed much more content when I told them to think of Peter as my husband.

Finally they had remembered Neverland, and said they could not deny the children their true home, but that Michael could not go under any circumstances. At that Peter and I glanced at one another, ready to pull our trick, we told my parents to stay with us in Neverland for one week. After that week was up, just like Peter they agreed to stay, but unlike Peter, it was with no qualms, or hindrances. They had grown bored of their lives back in England, being almost sixty they had finished most of what they could do, and now they were ready to start a new adventure.

Though we kept our childish charm, Peter and I did have many children. Seven to be exact. Though one of them did choose to go back and live with uncle John and his wife and two children, we were never angry. We visited often, but sometimes time got away from us, Neverland, and Earth were so different time wise after all.

However, Peter and I were never sad again. We had, had our spell of sadness, now all we had in our heart was utter joy for life. So we ruled the island together, as king and queen, mother and father, Peter Pan and Wendy Bird. Peter once said "To live would be an awfully great adventure," but the two of us living together, was the greatest adventure of all.


End file.
